The Archangels of Revelation
by penguinfighter-d-chan
Summary: In the third and final part of Four Horsemen, the Survivors are faced with a reconstructed world where they are hunted by CEDA and Proserpine Pharma, the Green Flu, and the psychological burden of being pawns in the PNCA's supposed Apocalypse.
1. Camera Recording 009

A/N: Waited a bit too long to get back on writing but here be the third and final part of _Four Horsemen_, _Archangels of Revelation_. Hopefully I'll fit in plenty of mind screws along with the story. Spot the cameos here!

Disclaimer: Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Samael (c) docmilbury.

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><p>Chapter 1: Video Recording 009<p>

[_The video camera comes alive, static peppered with distorted voices from PNCA ads..._

"_**Be on the look-out for the Devil-" "Dare not question your-[static] judgment; our nation will rise again" "Do not be afraid of death..."**_

_The owner of the video camera is considerably sullen as he reloads the guns he's held so dear. Ellis is still exactly the same physically but his blue eyes, now perfectly glowing in the dark, show a considerably older and mature person. He knows the camera's on and a weathered smile later, he turns to face it. He's wearing a dark hooded jacket and he takes off his trucker hat to adjust the gas mask he's bringing around._]

Iss been almost one year since all th' shit happened in Chicago but ain't nothin' changed in people. But if yew look real closely, it's all been downhill from then. Guess I shoul' start with why I'm gearin' up fer a fool's errand. [_He cocks his head towards the sword leaning against the wall._] But how'd ya start explainin' ev'ry li'l detail tha's happened t' lead up t' it? Start with th' big picture...

Proserpine Pharmacy Group started dev'lopin' a new vaccine fer the Flu just a few days after Lilith was killed. I ain't seen th' results but ev'ryone who knows th' truth don't trust it at all. Th' whole deal was an' shoulda been a disaster fer the PNCA an' the big pharma but tha' summabitch Samael spinned it an' made it _our_ fault. Tha' the' Beast was proof tha' th' Apocalypse was here an' here t' stay. Got ev'ryone an' their mothers lookin' fer us but didn't even provide a picture; jus' t' feed th' paranoia. I heard a client jus' say, "Th' only good heathen is a dead heathen." [_Sarcastic glare_] Yeah yew heard righ'; we're bein' called heathens. I may not know much 'bout history but we kinda left th' Salem Witch Trials a few centuries ago. Now we jus' have Witches.

Austin hasn't seen muchuva change since the St. John's massacre an', yeah people are scared but fer some reason, they ain't worryin' tha' much. I ain't watchin' th' news lately but th' lull migh' be 'cause two more cities have come back online. [_Sad smile_] We're now up t' 27 now...but th' Infection's still around. Th' zombies are still runnin' aroun', NOT dyin' from starvation as fast as th' Military thought they would. Seems they found a way t' feed each oth'r though I'd rather not think 'bout _how_, I enjoy sleepin'. In fact, last time I was outside th' walls, I was damn sure th' Tanks got stronger. It's a reality now, t' be honest; the Green Flu's gonna be 'round fer a long time.

Speakin' of cities, City 2 is officially become Mob Town, just like th' 1920s. Boss Giorgetti was found burned an' dismembered t' a crisp 'round th' same time CEDA and Proserpine announced th' vaccine. Nick had this quiet rage in his eyes when we saw those news; like he knew som'thin' th' rest of us didn't know. I never ask 'im wha' happened th' day Selene died but it don't take much t' figure out he suspected tha' his former capo had som'thin' t' do with it. I coul' see it an' frankly, it got me worried 'bout his mind. [_El rubs his forehead, recalling the memory_] I haven't talked 'bout his mental break tha' day but I know it's som'thin' I won't want t' know. Tha' thing was beyond a Hunter, or even a Tank...it was as if Nick tapped into the fires o' Hell an' took some of it back up. He even felt hot but tha' was just his body cuz th' moment he remembered who he was, he cooled down.

He must've loved Selene a lot though, t' jus' snap like a twig. Makes me wonder who's this man in my bed...[_There's a momentary wistful shine to those eyes_] Woul' he do th' same for me? Woul' I give up my mind fer him?

[_There's a knock on the door and a pair of green eyes glimmer as the older man comes into the room. "We're on in twenty, Sport," the stranger announces, spotting the camera._] Yeah, I'm almost done, I'll meet ya up there. [_The man in the black suit then leaves the hick rather pensive for a second then resumes the video_.] Easier said than done but...thought's what counts.

He's th' main reason I'm comin' with in this job. Tha' an' Keith. [_A straight glare at the lens is all the viewer needs to know_] Tha' prick Leon took Keith from me. My best friend, righ' in my face. Me an' Nick have been hoppin' 'round cities all across th' United States, lookin' fer him. We've been usin' leaked documents t' track 'im down but he's a slippery prick these days... We've covered Cities 1 through 5: New York, Chicago, Boston, Philly, Miami...nothin'. I ain't losin' hope: I'mma find Keith an' Zoey. I still have faith in God, ev'n if I'm an abomination, as th' PNCA keeps tellin' me. Wha' Samael has done t' me an' my family, [_Eyes flicker red for a moment and his voice is feral for a moment_] is _**unforgivable.**_

It's kinda weird goin' back t' New Orleans after all we've been through. I still remember my first week in Meridian, dealin' with Cole an' his ultra-patriotic bullshit but even I feel bad fer him. Las' week, our li'l informant, codename Marie Antoinette, sent Rochelle th' official step-down notice from th' higher-ups to "delegate Experiment capture t' other associated branches." [_The hick chuckled a bit_] Okay, I lied; I don't feel bad at all. Too bad he was th' lesser o' th' two evils. Th' leaked information ain't helpin' our cause in th' least; som'thin' about Revelation. I haven't read th' Bible in a while but don't that come after th' Rapture? If then, why

Maybe I need help makin' sense; haven't had a proper thought in a while. I'm startin' t' have these weird dreams tha' jus' leave me all drained an' shit. Worse yet, I'm startin' t' think I'm losin' my mind...I'm hearin' voices an' seein' people tha' ain' there. Las' week, after th' raid in Miami, I coulda sworn I saw a man with glass an' a labcoat in th' auto shop, talkin' in I think is German. A blink later an' he's jus' gone! Is th' experiment finally drivin' me into th' funny house? Took its damn time then! Or is it all a plan t' come back by th' Ice Queens?

[_Ellis shakes his head for a moment and raises his hands in a dismissive motion_] Yeah, I'm getting' too ahead of myself now. They got my body but they nev'r got my mind or my soul. Me an' th' others ain't som' animals t' just play 'round with then put down when we don't follow their rules. And t' think we said yes t' 'em almost two years ago.

In happier news...Nick proposed t' me. Got on one knee an' ev'rythin'. I guess he knows where he stands in our relationship but I told 'im t' wait jus' a bit longer. I know I love 'im but I want th' best fer him. An' th' best for 'im is t' get our freedom back. He didn't seem tha' sad but he knew what I meant. He keeps tellin' me tha' we'll find Keith an' Zoey an' he'll make me a "proper lady" yet. Tha' got his nuts kicked; las' I checked I don't spend three hours in th' bathroom fer a job.

[_The mechanic checks his watch and hisses_] Ah shit! I'm late! This is Ellis [BEEP!] an' I'mma raise hell in New Orleans t'night. [_The camera shuts down as it is shoved back into the duffle bag. It can be heard being stuffed into a small metal enclosure, possibly a locker while its owner rushes away._]


	2. The Catalyst

A/N: Wow, it was supposed to be one chapter per month due to work and classes but that went out the window soon enough. The problem is that I usually write this fic on my BlackBerry, as I have with the others but, due to the schedule, I don't have that much time to write or draw. Enjoy this nightly raid into CEDA headquarters!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Samael (c) docmilbury

[1] The file in reference is here [ (http) brokennewworld . livejournal . com / 2840 . html ]

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><p>Chapter 2: The Catalyst<p>

Breathing hard, Ellis watched over the Reconstructed New Orleans night, target locked: the CEDA quarters in the old Theater Districts. The latest leaked message in his hand read: _"The stolen child is lying within the heart of Old French Sin."_ Ironic he and Nick should be here, this was the last place they along with the rest of their group from Savannah, the last stop as normal humans. "You ready, El?" his lover inquired while clicking the safety off the Magnum. The hick smiled for a moment, "Wha' have I told yew 'bout overcompensatin'? There ain't no need fer tha' hand cannon." "Oh, I know; but it'll make me feel better when I blow their heads off," Nick quipped, hiding the gun in his suit holster. "They ain't th' enemy, babe; they're jus' followin' orders," Conquest reasoned, putting away his trademark cap in storage and hiding his face in the gas mask. Nick was always surprised at how merciful Ellis could be, even in war, and yet be an effective killing machine. So the conman pecked his mate's forehead and just before switching his own cover, he whispered, "I'd lose my mind for you," and sprinted ahead. Ellis stood quiet while his smile grew and followed Nick outside.

The skyline was still plenty dark as the process of reconstruction carried on beneath them. New Orleans was finally starting to shed its bombed and corpse-ridden shell, the old Quarters' shine through the carnage. Too bad sightseeing wasn't the objective. "Ro, how many are out there on your side?" "Way too many riot guys here; I haven't been that quiet," the ex-reporter radioed in, just about to kick unconscious the last of the grunts. The missing member of their quartet had to stay behind; they honored his request to retire hands down but Coach was never too far away. The complex was rather big and for a moment, El made a quip about this place being like Umbrella Corporation. At least Umbrella was actively stupid and not gaining public favor through religion. A quick flash of light and the hick nodded to wrap his arms tight around his lover. A hook later, the conman turned transgenic disengaged the zip-line and zoomed across the financial district withbthe mechanic. For those precious seconds, it felt as if they were truly flying between the structures, passing by so many windows and unaware civilians.

They landed rolling, meeting their comrade along with all the hopefully knocked-out guards. "Had yourself a little party up here, Cupcake?" Nick smirked. "Yeah, you two missed it, had fireworks and everything," the former reporter spat back, donning her mask and heading inside. Like the Miami HQ, the place was crawling with both paramilitary and official soldiers, making their rounds and just barely noticing Topsides had yet to respond. Without further ado, the conman took out four canisters of tear gas and split them three-way. Almost in rhythm with some light jazz, probably off-curfew, War counted 3, 2, 1 and whispered, "Let's jam". Corp. Vernita DeWitt, head of security, had reported nothing wrong until three cans rolled out with an instant cough-inducing haze. Everything afterwards was a blur of movement she could barely keep track. "SOUND THE-" a jab to the back of her neck and she fell unconscious. "That'll keep her down for a while," Nick stated while disarming the captain and taking her ammo, never know when one will need it.

In the months since Keith and Zoey's disappearance, the Horsemen trained themselves into becoming exactly what McKinley and Cole intended them to be: the three most dangerous humans alive. It was during these high-intensity survival exercises that Ellis spotted the so-called Super Tanks and the evolved Specials. Evolved in the sense that, although significantly more mutated and rotted away, they somehow became stronger and their corrosion more potent. Whatever it was, in his mind, somehow had to be caused by Samael's meddling. Nick told him to grow up, "No one has THAT kind of power, okay? He's not God." Either/or, not the best development in natural selection. But at least the military had something of an advantage thanks to the so-called vaccine.

Back to the present, the last of the guards fell to the sleeping gas, allowing a much freer exploration of the area. Compared to New York and Chicago, the research center was smaller but the research nonetheless vital. "Y'all know the rules, anything marked Horsemen gets totalled," Ro reminded her fellows as soon as the gas was diffused enough. Driven to find Keith first, destroy research later, Ellis took off to the higher floors, Nick following him without fail while the reporter went straight to the archive. She was focused on exposing exactly what Proserpine was really doing behind closed doors with CEDA.

"Keith? Y'all in here?" The mechanic called out just after the conman sniped the cameras off. No response meant a closer examination of the floor, aesthetically clean, Sleeping scientists all over the white tiles, both survivors treaded carefully. "He's probably out cold too, kiddo," Nick surmised and carried forward, scanning all computers he could find. Not as technosavvy as their Meridian handlers, he searched all instances of Keith Lincoln or Zoey Pullman in the intranet, covering his tracks as best as he could. Only one line in a PNCA memo mentioned Zoey, joining the organization due to "mental and emotional stress". Keith was not to be found by these methods. "Bullshit," he hissed before shooting the CPU clean through. On the next computer...he decided to do a little personal search to aid Ro's quest. He typed in "Giorgetti" into the file search. What he found both amused and horrified him: Liam had donated half the gang's assets to the PNCA and Proserpine just after the dissolution of the Six Families. "Fucker wants to buy his way up..." The image of Selene's corpse caused his eyes to flicker red before his own mind (or heart?) reminded him he was with his angel of conquest.

Speaking of, said "angel" had covered three floors at breakneck speeds, searching for that classic spice cake and motor oil scent that was his best friend. Or half-brother if Miss Cordy's confession was true. Sure, he was pissed at his mother for not telling him but couldn't hold it against her. _"El, sweet El, tha' man was a prick ev'n t' Linda, got me piss-drunk...I ran outta town before eith'r knew wha' happened. I'd rath'r be called th' slut of town than break yer friendship with Keith,"_ she explained when she was released from the hospital, months earlier. The dignity she portrayed admitting her one mistake was something all four Survivors respected deeply. _"Don't go lookin' fer your brother, look fer yer friend.'_" "Will do mama," he whispered, another floor and no Keith. "I'm startin' t' think my buddy ain't here..." "Look harder," Nick's voice snapped him out of that line of thought, holding some CEDA paperwork. "Zoey's not here but Keith is registered under Kenneth Doe. We're two floors from-" "Then why th' fuck are we waitin' fer?"

Once he got there, Ellis realized why his lover hadn't brought the elusive hick with; Room 1203 was nothing short of a high-security isolation cell block. The concrete and steel door showed evidence of damage by automatic and handgun fire as well as slashes. "You owe a new sword," Nick calmly quipped, presenting a fairly chipped and cracked katana. "I like th' sword in yer pants better an' this ain't yers," Ellis retorted examining the door itself, knowing that this was a back-up rather than the one Nick usually carried. "Wha' is this place?" "Apparently listed as the Attic, able to hold a luxurious three people at a time and the rest is encrypted." "More like two people and a Tank if yew ask me. Told ya Samael was makin' 'em! Then the horrible conclusion came to mind: "Is Keith a Super Tank?" Instantly, Nick covered Ellis' mouth, hearing stray footsteps above them. "No but that might be him!"

~0~

Below, Rochelle was dead to the world, copying all that she could about Proserpine financing the Beast and orchestrating the systematic disappearances of other survivors. In regards to Lilith, barely anything survived save for the Holden files she and Louis were able to decrypt. Which gave her an idea... Any documents pertaining that artificial child related to another obscure file pertaining Leon's past.

[PASSWORD]:_

"Lilith." [DENIED] "Lily" [DENIED] "Lauren." [ACCESS GRANTED] "I am amazing," Rochelle grinned and clicked on the New Orleans database. What she got were the very records of her group's Legion trials, most if not all encrypted. "This shit's coming home," she stated, downloading the rather trite files into a disk. If Louis or the so-called Marie Antoinette were to properly decipher these, it could help destroy- Scratch that, she suddenly heard a commotion up four floors and instantly disappeared into the air vents system. Apparently, some of the guys on the roof woke up ten minutes before they were supposed to. _Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

The soldiers arrived just as the dust settled from the vent, unable to catch the Horsewoman on time. "Shit, guys, this just went FUBAR!" she exclaimed, rushing up the stairs with Hunter speeds and even hopping along the rails just to catch her friends. She could hear Ellis screaming out Keith's name and Nick incapacitating soldiers just beyond the three flights of stairs. "Yeah, we KNOW!" the conman shot back, metaphorically and literally at a soldier who managed to sneak up on Rochelle. A flutter of a hospital gown inside the helicopter cockpit was all El needed to know that Keith was in there and leaped the ten feet up to grab onto the rails. "Keith! It's me, Ellis!" he yelled into the tight space, ripping some tags while he held on for dear life.

"Bogey on board, get rid of excess weight," the pilot commanded as he stabilized the vehicle. The soldier holding the patient nodded affirmative and smacked the butt of his submachine gun right into Conquest's face, knocking him overboard and into empty air. It took a tenth of a second for the hick to realize...that wasn't Keith at all but another test subject, meaning he was free-falling in vain. But he never landed on cement, instead in Nick's arms while he somehow caught him from certain death. "The fuck is wrong with you! What have I told you about jumping into stupid situations like that?" the older man scolded while El regained his footing "It wasn't stupid at th' time," the mechanic shot back, opening his fist to reveal part of a route.

The scrap revealed a possible destination to all Legion Experiments: City 6, Charleston, South Carolina. The conman sighed out and bopped Ellis on the head, "You're going to be the end of me, you know that?" "Guys, as much as I love seeing you two bitch each other out," Ro cut in, holding the encrypted papers, "we're neither alone nor empty handed so let's go home." As they made their way over to their back-alley escape route, the conman and the mechanic couldn't help look up into the sky, following the helicopter as it disappeared into the night. "Déjá vu, sport?" "Like ya wouldn't believe..." It was in such a spot, watching a helicopter fly away on the Vannah hotel, almost two years ago, that they met.


	3. The World Left Behind

A/N: A side chapter into the people that control the current United States, along with a few schemes under wraps. A quick chapter with two guests along for the ride. A cookie to whoever figures them out!

DISCLAIMER:

Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Samael and the Chimera (c) docmilbury

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><p>Chapter 3: The World Left Behind<p>

Nathan Cole was less than enthused about the Archangel program but there he was, part of the selected military audience along with his bosses, and the surviving President. Having personally worked with the original Horsemen, this new batch was almost not negotiable. That's not to say he was attached to the ragtag group of experiments, just that they were at least docile by own accord. All three unsettled the veteran by their own accord: St. Uriel looked dead inside, St. Gabriel was unrelentingly stoic even with fresh (assumed) disciplinary wounds, and St. Raphael reminded him of Samael just a little too much.

"These three models are the pinnacle of Dr. McKinley's breakthrough research into the Green Flu," Leon started off, profoundly confident in these three Survivors. After the utter failure that his beloved Lilith had been, he was hellbent on both eradicating the plague and breaking the Horsemen into full servitude. The video surveillance into the Giorgetti stronghold had proven incredibly illuminating for him: these mongrels could be demoralized to the point of savagery. Once there, all it took was a strong hand to mold them back into sensible soldiers. "And the Chimera mentioned in the report?" "A work in process, I'm afraid, Mr. President," Samael quipped, hiding the annoyance that brat was causing him.

"These creatures you see here are akin to the original Legion experiments: genetically modified human beings who have all the benefits of virus gB345 and none of the drawbacks. In addition," Erin displayed, clicking her presentation, "save for St. Raphael, they have all been properly re-educated into proper behavior." "In other words, brainwashed," Cole quipped, not buying this load. "Didn't we have this very situation with the Beast project?" The unassuming scientist at his side let slip a tiny smile, just keeping to himself. Even the Head of State looked at this act of insubordination with surprise: last time they checked, the NAS Meridian Survivor didn't have three human weapons at his beck and call. "A minor setback, Lilith may have been destructive but she was obedient. Your experiments were sorely lacking in this aspect, much like yourself in Iraq," Leon smugly came back with, the President's and General Commander's reports had the so-called Baghdad incident on file. "Your focus is making bio-weapons and money, my focus is on saving my men," Nathan snarled, stopped only by the stranger from throttling the politician.

"Whichever the case," the President cut in, taking the floor, "Mr. Samael has already provided the US Government with an effective vaccine that will be put to effect as soon as the exposure trials are concluded. The military will remain as the head of the evacuation programs while CEDA remains under the Proserpine PharmaGroup. If these people are of use to us in both the short _and_ long run," emphasis duly noted for Samael's mistake, "Then the Legion experiments will continue under federal jurisdiction." Cole wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with both the politician and the smirking Ice Queen; they got exactly what they wanted. "This meeting's adjourned."

Once the Commander in Chief and his secretaries left, Leon came up to Cole and outstretched his hand. "Well played, Sergeant. You almost made me lose the federal grants," he quipped, St. Raphael smirking behind him. "But one of us had more preparation in this." "Fuck you. I don't know exactly what your plans are for these freaks but I will not have a repeat of Chicago, not on my watch. The Infected are finally stabilizing outside these walls, the US Army doesn't need Bourne clones taking away the work from honorable men and women," Nathan dismissed the gesture and walked off down the hall. The presentation was too perfect; the Archangels didn't fuck up a single task in the demonstration, something had to be up.

"Oh come on, you could let me cap the prick," Liam chuckled, putting his hands into his pockets. "And why would _I _do that?" Samael coolly responded before clicking a button. Instantly, the mobster writhed in pain, collapsing in seizures from a few hundred volts going though his body. "Cole's nothing but a small, easily ignored nuisance. Killing him will raise suspicion upon my very hard-earned operations...he doesn't have the will to become St. Michael, though right now..." "STOP IT YOU FUCKING-" "Sir, I think my comrade understands he's wrong," St. Gabriel stated, putting his hand onto the remote. "I agree. Thank you, Gabriel; you prove to be a superior leader than Mr. Giorgetti here," the politician agreed and backed off. A quick text alert and Samael sighed. "Apparently, our friends recently ransacked the New Orleans Information Center. Gabriel, take Uriel with you; I believe it's time for you two to say hello. Do be courteous," he ordered while the remaining archangel recovered. The forgettable scientist passed by them but only St. Gabriel heard him say something.

"This is the third time this week I've had to yank your leash. I trust the Luda and the O'Donnell treaties have been signed, Mr. Giorgetti," Leon carried forth into his limo, leaving McKinley behind with the other scientists. "Yeah; lab rats'll be coming in later this week along with their 'donations'," Liam growled while he soothed his singed neck. "I'm thinkin' expanding further east...Say New York?" The politician shrugged, "My only interests lie in the PNCA and recovering the Horsemen. Do as you please but keep my name out of the spotlight. Now if you'll excuse me, I have mass to attend."

Chapter Epilogue: The Traveller and The Mistress

As the meeting room cleared, the forgettable scientist remained, shoulders hung and hands rubbing his forehead. His green eyes glowed against the dark space, quite like the Archangels before him. This was not good by any stretch of the word. These were the times he wished he had more active an influence in this world. As he walked up the stairs, the Traveller managed to sneak a glare the politician and whisper, "You're wrong." Only the experiments caught the infrasound but the origin had long since disappeared.

It had been by his doing that the newer batch of Legion subjects, including the mentioned Chimera, were able to escape their bases and now let loose to survive. Of course his Father was displeased but the Traveller couldn't let this atrocity continue. He accepted the consequences of his actions by being stuck in an Infected's body for a month. Not fun.

"You never learn, do you, caro frater?" His sister, the Mistress, sighed, meeting the Traveller on top of the Proserpine building. "You'd do the same, caro soror," the older of the two shot back. "No I wouldn't; I frankly like Samael's style. Though such grandeur is wasted on the stupid." Down to business, the Mistress examined the reports and arched an eyebrow, "I take it back, I want nothing to do with the snide bastard. The strain production and distribution rates are critical. And we're stuck observing?" "Exactly; all we can do is be passive enablers to the side we want to see win," the Traveller concluded before disappearing into thin air. This was a most disturbing change in the overall picture.


	4. Investigative Measures

A/N: Another two-fer update for y'all! Everything has been delayed due to offline duties but I always tried to update regularly between work and studying. Also what the hell is up with the italics here? Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury

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><p>Chapter 4: Investigative measures<p>

To be honest, Francis didn't expect to be waiting for a woman but Rochelle was a special exception. She was his gal, a bona fide super heroine that could break him. He, along with Louis and Coach, waited at the Amtrak station for Train # 25 inbound from Louisiana, always fearful of their friends getting caught by CEDA. The whistle and train braking was their signal. "I hate that whistle!" "So I've heard," Louis grimaced, "they should be in the cargo cars." "Here's hopin' they got som' good news," Famine observed, keeping track on all outbound passengers. Ever the optimist, the former manager knew the others would bring something new from their exploits. Last time, Ellis brought him a laptop from CEDA, with the encryption decoded. The raw data Louis managed to process gave him hope: the vaccine and a proper anti-viral had gone from beta to human tests and these were looking promising. "At least something good came out those experiments," Ro commented rather tired that day. "You okay?" Francis instantly inquired, keeping his distance but still concerned about her. "Yeah, I just need to rest; had to deal with a Spitter nest getting here."

Both Nick and Ellis look at their friend rather strangely but said nothing to correct her lie. Rochelle had lagged behind during their escape to the train stations, commenting shortness of breath and dizzy spells. In his own way, Ellis offered to get her some food, as he'd done in the Chicago trip. She politely refused and told him to go cuddle with the conman. It was said experiment who stopped her as the group headed off. "What's wrong?" that tone read authority. Even though Coach was the default leader and father figure, Nick took the position out in the field. "Nothing's wrong, sugar; just a little tired," Ro tried to lie again, "I don't want to worry Francis anymore than he already is." Nick rolled his eyes and pinched his nose, "That grease monkey's got a funny way of worrying about you." "Like you're any better with Ellis and his mother." That stung a little more than it should but the conman recouped easily with, "I don't _lie_ to them, not since Chicago."

That had been the utmost truth: since burning his ties to the Giorgetti family, Nick was now focused in earning his and his lover's freedom from CEDA. He had a three-step process for it too: step 1, kill Liam; step 2, discredit McKinley and Holden; step 3, make Samael pay for making Ellis and Miss Cordy suffer. Still, the data on Liam was quite encouraging; meant he was probably an experiment like himself and now an acceptable target. The spat was broken when Ellis stepped in and asked what was going on. "Nothing, sport. Go visit your mother; I'll catch up." Nick assured him before giving Rochelle one last concerned look. As soon as she was alone, Ro went with Coach and the Philly survivors, hand over her stomach to ease the oncoming ache. _McKinley's__a__liar,__we're__not__immune__to__everything_, she berated herself, hoping the decryption session would take her mind off these ailments.

Miss Cordy's residence was much quieter without Keith and, to be frank, it was creepier than a Witch in an abandoned building. There was no tinkering with the truck, now collecting dust in the garage. Ellis couldn't look at it without remembering his failure. He still brought his momma a bouquet of flowers in an (rather futile, he knows) attempt at cheering her up. "Ma, yew in here?" "At th' livin' room, baby," her voice echoed, with a loud squish sound. The older woman has just finished de-boning a chicken, four plates set up. It broke Ellis' heart to see his mother still have an empty plate out for Keith, as if he'd come in through the door. "How'd it go, El?" "He wasn't there but Ro found a lotta stuff 'bout wha' happened t' us," the mechanic answered while kissing her on the head, "It'll help with findin' him...I know so. He's in Charlotte an' Nika an' I are-" "Baby, yew an' Nick gotta take it easy. Y'all never find 'im if y'all dead tired," Miss Cordy reminded her boy and beckoned him to lunch.

Almost on cue, the radio chimed into the choir-like music...both mother and son hated those sounds with a passion. The soothing woman's voice began with:

_Welcome one and all to the People's Voice here at the PNCA. Today, we start with announcements, beginning with our President finally declaring the Infection contained after many months of battling the plagues. He, along with our men in uniform, have ensured that, we civilians can now sleep in peace. _

_But__beware__of__those__whose__names__are__lost__to__the__Apocalypse...those__who__are__tainted._It didn't take a genius to figure who the announcer was referring to and it annoyed Miss Cordy to no end. "Yew ain't tainted, baby boy; yer doin' the world good. An' if th' world don't care fer yer work, well," the almost sextagenarian smiled, "there's a buncha people here who are grateful of what yew an' Nikita're doin'." The mechanic smiled weakly and gave his mother a soft peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Ma; yew dunno how nice it feels t' have someone, _anyone_, say tha'."

"Aww, did I miss Miss Cordy change Ellis' diaper an' powder his ass?" Nick's voice was a welcome if sarcastic change to the atmosphere. "Boy, y'all sit down 'fore I see how fast yer skin reg'nerates with soup burns," Miss Cordy shot back as she shuffled over to the pot and served a most desired hot meal to her son-in-law. "Gotta love Southern hospitality," Nick shrugged before pecking his angel's head and a kiss to his _suegra_. Sitting down for a quick prayer, the two Horsemen did their best to just relax, knowing that any day could be their last in freedom.


	5. God's Trumpet and Fire

A/N: A rather gruesome chapter if you think about it. The Archangels finally meet the Horsemen in the most violent way possible. Hope you all enjoy! To quote Barney Calhoun, See y'all when I see y'all!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize? (C) VALVe, Samael (c) docmilbury.

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><p>Chapter 5: God's Trumpet and Fire<p>

It was no surprise for Nick to see his lover grab his helmet and go for a motorcycle drive after a bad day. The way the military jacket hugged the young man's body made him temporarily forget all the pain and angst they felt on a regular basis. It made El relax a little and, when he did come home, Nick would be waiting for him, smirking and ready to just fuck. "You sure you'll be okay, sport?" "Yeah, I'll be fine, Nika; yew jus' read yer li'l newspaper like a respons'ble adult," Ellis smirked, some of his youth still shone through despite it all. "I'mma be 'round Sunset Park an' Lincoln Drive. Be back inna few, a'right?" Without being told, Ellis kissed his mate, grabbed the disposable cell phone, bike keys, and hauled ass outside. Something bothered the conman about tonight...no encrypted email, no PNCA broadcast...there was no movement from the enemy front.

Today had been a fruitful day on Rochelle's front; Louis had managed to decode half the Holden and Laura files and they were just about to decrypt the current Legion experiments. "I'll go pick up some energy drinks, you guys want anything?" "Nah, we're good," Louis assured before logging back into his makeshift system. Of course he and Francis were shocked that Zoey willingly gave herself up to CEDA but they couldn't blame her...she took Bill's death that much harder, the old man had become a substitute father. No, she could _not_ hold back; no one chooses to be like Lilith and gets any mercy from her. Still, she felt plenty guilty someone else would go through the Legion experiments just to forget.

~0~

"Conquest is on the move, headed north. War is headed east. Stay on mark and do as you please...need not be dead or alive," the voices in the archangels' headsets relayed. The super-soldiers both nodded and logged off; both ready to punish their brethren for their disobedience.

~0~

The rush of air blowing against El's face brought back so many memories of his previous life; a carefree, _normal_ livelihood of fixing cars and Sunday dinners. Running through an open field without direction, just enjoying the feel, it reminded him of birds flying away. He had no wings to speak of but this bike could get him away from the mess that was his situation. _Man,__I__shoulda__asked__Nick__t'__come__along,_he thought while he stopped at a red light. Thanks to the PNCA-sanctioned and military-enforced curfews, there was barely any traffic right now, so it was a bit startling to see another rider come up. As per his cheery nature, Ellis waved a small hello to which he got a trite, dry response from the fully-concealed man.

The stranger wanted to race, so it would seem. Around the two streets, and finish up at the warehouses. El nodded and revved up; he was a Horseman, if this guy was planning on robbing him, he had another thing coming. Both men took off immediately on the green light, as if they both could sense the change. Through Lincoln Drive, they were neck-to-neck, neither missing a turn or an obstacle. _Man,__this__guy's__real__good!_ Ellis grinned before he took a shortcut through an abandoned building's lobby. Suddenly, the new rider cut him off, causing the mechanic to slide onto the pavement and the bike to carry forward on its own.

"Motherfucker," El groaned as his scraps and wounds started closing up, grabbing his gun. "Such language," no matter how muffled that voice was, it was _his__voice._ "Keith! Issat yew!" the hick charged in a full blown hug. The mystery man nodded and took off his helmet, causing Ellis to freeze in his spot. Something was dangerously off about his best friend, his hairs stood on end. Unlike the messy hair and beard, Keith was clean-cut and proper. But the cherry on top were those unsettling, glowing amber eyes, proof evident of the younger mechanic's worst fear. "Keith...they didn't..." "You never mentioned how good it feels, El," the now archangel stated, cracking his knuckles and his neck. "Wha-" Ellis was instantly sucker-punched back to the ground with the impact of a bat to his face. "Sorry, El, jus' followin' orders." Every fist and kick to the regenerating body cracked bone and disfigured flesh without mercy.

In Ellis' sorrow and grief, his mind began playing tricks on him. He could hear his step-father's voice through Keith's beatdown. "Elijah..." "J-James?" Instantly, St. Gabriel withdrew from his target, the hair on his arms on end. He'd been warned about this phenomenon, he didn't think he'd actually see it. In the younger mechanic's mental space, Conquest assumed James Faulkner. "Son, let ol' Pops help ya stop th' pain," the Horseman requested, giving Ellis a pat on the shoulder. The hick was too exhausted, too weak to argue, so he nodded and leaned against the touch. In the real world, Ellis' body shoved Keith aside with the force of a fully mutated Tank. Red Witch eyes replaced baby blues and the snarl of a Hunter alerted everyone in the block. "Conquest has -cough- reached 99.9% potential," St. Gabriel managed to state to the radio, to Samael's delight, "Good, provide video feed." The first image on the film was a feral Ellis grabbing Keith by the throat and crushing the windpipe. He then tossed the archangel aside and began to tear him apart. Thirty seconds had elapsed and Leon stated, "That's enough for now, Gabriel; now show this beast what proper guidance and training can do." Keith was unable to provide a proper response but, a microsecond later, the video showed it was Conquest, not him, on the ground.

"Y'wanna play with the big boys, El?" The older Savannite growled, turning his communications off and cracking his knuckles. Conquest flipped back onto four feet, baring his bloody teeth just before lounging to the throat. Instantly, the archangel sprinted and grabbed his best friend's left ankle, crushing it in his hands. The Horseman howled in pain, leg rendered useless but still able to fight. What happened next was the most brutal assault ever experienced on Lincoln Drive; Keith or the archangel wearing Keith as a meatsuit was ruthless in his work. Little by little, he beat the Horseman out of Ellis, to the point that the poor thing screamed for Nick, hoping his lover heard him. But this began to bring out the Archangel from the older hick. In his thrill, Keith spotted El's sword, recognizable by the extra joint and seized it. He aimed it at the heart, one of two ways to kill a Legion experiment. "K-Keith..." Conquest choked out, eyes back to blue and body bruised and broken. "Keith, please don't..." "I don't need t' pity a bastard like yew," the indoctrinated super-soldier hissed coldly. "I'm s-sorry I coul'n't save ya," Ellis apologized sincerely, hand weakly tugging at the dark fatigues. Any comeback died in St. Gabriel's mouth; those words woke up the old Keith. It wasn't a lot of time but just enough for the older mechanic to settle the blade down. "El, I-"

A gun clicked its safety off and green eyes glowed furious. "You have three seconds," Nick's voice was seething. Without much ado, St. Gabriel sprinted off at full speed, Conquest's damage already gone. The conman then turned and practically gasped at what was left of Ellis. Sure, he'd heal in due time but his mind was a whole other story; his faith was shattered. "Let's get you home, Miṭhā'ī parī." The strange words, coming out of his beloved gambler made Ellis cling that much harder onto Nick's arms.

~0~

The ex-reporter was just about done packing her groceries into her sedan when her ears picked up the sounds of a distressed woman. "Oh God, I just got mugged!" the stranger screamed deep within the alleyways. Immediately, Rochelle's altruistic side kicked in and she sprinted to action. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" The bright red jacket went unnoticed, so did the dark hair in a ponytail and...the lack of wounds in the scrambled scene. "We should get you to the-" She never saw it coming.

The blade crossed Rochelle's belly, scissoring her insides with precision skill. "Why are you-" St. Uriel's eyes remained blank, no emotion inside them when she said, "Unauthorized breeding is prohibited." Before the reporter could ask, the archangel pulled out and flicked the blood right off. For no reason, she didn't finish Ro off and sprinted away into the maze of buildings. As she healed, Ro tried to make sense of what Zoey was referring to. "I'm not-" Suddenly, a jolt of pain shot through her like lightning and forced her on her knees. She bit her lip to not scream and hid away in an empty room, to ride the distress out in private. After a few moments of agony in the dark, there was a gasp of terror. Alone and in pain, she cried for the first time since the Carrier massacre in Meridian.


	6. Resurgence

A/N: WOW, almost two years of not updating this story...and here I am, typing at it again. It's never really left my mind after all this time, even with work then law school. I'll be getting back to writing more often now, I should hope!

Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Leon Samael (c) docmilbury

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><p>Chapter 6: Resurgence<p>

Huddled in a corner of their shared apartment was a clearly broken Ellis. Red tears streaming his face, he was reeling from the positively horrible realization that he'd failed. He failed to save Keith from the experiments...that he was an Archangel. They were now enemies. Letting tiny gasps and sobs slip out, he wept alone in this singular space. Just watching his best friend incapacitate his bike and nearly off him in the subsequent beatdown killed him little by little the more he thought about it. "Wha's th' point o' livin'?" the words exited his lips before he could realize what he said. "To carry on," Nick's voice echoed in the walls, and the hick looked up to see him towering above. "Fix what you can." His voice was so soothing, so understanding that it made the tears stop.

Ringed hands took calloused ones and a pair of lips met the young man's forehead. "We know he's alive and active; we can save him now..." the older man assured him in whispers. Ellis looked up from the embrace, hope still alive, "How do ya know? He's just dead inside now. He was gonna kill me, Nick." A soft smirk arose from the gambler when he said, "But he didn't. He didn't finish the job." So the hick really didn't hallucinate that split-second hesitation; underneath the cold and calculating St. Gabriel, Keith still lived on. The murderous voice in his mind had now all but disappeared; Conquest would not come out again. The gambler knew the experience well...he knew the calm that came after he'd slaughtered all of Liam's men when Selene died.

Either by coincidence or divine providence, the couple heard their doorbell ring. Nick patted his peer's shoulder and said, "Get yourself clean; it's a little early for a vampire Halloween costume." Ellis nodded sullen, in no mood for a visitor but happy for any friendly contact. He headed over to their bedroom to trade his bloody shirt for a clean one. Instead of Miss Cordy or a neighbor complaining about the wild sex, it was a deathly somber Coach. "You two, my house, now," the oldest Survivor commanded. "El's fine, thanks for-" "Nicholas," Coach growled, "it's Baby Girl."

The gambler and the mechanic could barely believe what they saw in Coach's guest room: a huddled mess of a woman that was supposed to be Rochelle. She had a blank expression, making the tear trails that much noticeable. "She drove herself here at the dead o' night; cryin' her eyes out," the oldest Survivor explained as best as he could while his wife cleared the plates. "Kept sayin' tha' she's going to kill some woman," Ma'am Florence added, wiping Ro's face with a wet cloth. A wordless gesture and Ma'am Flo excused herself from the room; Coach had Horsemen business to tend to. "I'm gonna go ahead and assume Zoey's to blame," Nick quipped, crossing his arms over his chest while Ellis ran his hand in Rochelle's hair. "Zoey?! But tha' can't be! She's a decent youn' lady!" "It ain't a jokin' matter, Nicholas; this was a direct assault on us." Coach reprimanded. "Oh I know; El met the brand new Keith. Regular charmer," Nick growled further, "Beat the crap out of him under some sort of command." That last one made Rochelle wipe away the tears and sit up, through the pain, "A Command?" her voice was hardened; she was sick of being considered a breeding mule for CEDA, "You three weren't there, she was delighted to follow the orders and rip a hole in my uterus." She harkened back to the utter pain that CEDA, no, McKinley had reprogrammed her to feel when Ellis and Nick sliced the Beast months back. "El, she's just like Keith...she's got her mind cleaned and molded again." Coach sighed and stopped the bickering before it began, "Baby girl, none o' us really know wha' happened t' those youn'uns, other than wha' we went through." The other three immediately clammed up at such stern words, they had spoken above their superior officer so to speak. But in that silence, Ellis remembered a detail of his findings in New Orleans. "Th' Attic," he thought out loud and paced about. "The fuck are you talking about Fireball?" "Nick y'saw it, did ya? Back at th' research center, there was a structure called th' Attic. Able t' house 3 people at th' same time." "Yeah?" "Well, this is jus' a long shot but we need t' see Zoey an' Keith again. I know fer a fact Keith wassa guest there but Zoe, we gotta make sure Francis an' Louis get th' news in."

"What do you have in mind, Ellis?" War was getting back on her feet and her resolve was coming back. "We're gonna hafta infiltrate deeper int' wha' CEDA an' Proserpine's got cookin'. I know fer a fact tha' mah best friend is still in tha' archangel an' I ain't restin' until I git 'im back," the mechanic show his eyesight down, "'Specially since it's mah fault he's in this mess." He still wanted to believe that his mother's admission had been a lie, that he wasn't Keith's brother after all. But the evidence was there: he was a perfect candidate to replace Conquest and fitting he'd be named after Gabriel: for every conquest, a trumpet must sing. "Yeah well, we're gonna need help," Coach stated firmly, "They're much more refined than we ev'r were an' they are sneaky 'bout it too. We gotta git as good as 'em an' better." That was a silent problem and no one wanted to acknowledge it, so Nick sighed, "Then we have two major problems: one, they were_ reprogrammed_ into being special-ops. We're basically kids playing with our daddies' guns next to them." "And the second one?" the reporter had a sneaking suspicion of the answer but to hear the conman say it would've brought her some measure of guilt-relief. "We have to be as ruthless. No mercy. They wanted the Horsemen, we're giving them the fucking Horsemen. God knows what they have been developing under the guise as research and our informant has been quiet ever since the attack." That made Ellis think further into his theories: what had happened to him in that brief snap? Why did he hear Samael order Keith to 'show him what proper guidance could do'? Did the tycoon force his friend to experience that enraged state...and tamed it? In the mechanic's mind, this would be the deciding factor: whoever could master the Rhamnusia strain best and still retain some semblance of humanity would be the winner.

_All I gotta do is break my best friend back to being himself...And the Attic is where I will find this,_ he concluded, blue eyes losing some of their warmth in the process. In that moment, all four phones buzzed with three text messages, two from Louis.

**From: Louis**

**Deciphered 30% of Data, need you to come over ASAP.**

**From: Louis**

**Need Ro's article on PNCA & any ads recordings.**

The last text was garbled but it could be read as following

**From: 8la^K #35A**

**Y03 i77 8e under siege. 73t'5 meet Mi551ssi9! "Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" **

"Huh," Coach examined the poem stanza and frowned slightly, "Whoever's sendin' ya this is a fan o' horror poems." "At this point in my life," Nick shrugged, "I'm more surprised that they'd stopped quoting fairy tales." Both him and Ellis turned to Rochelle, "Y'all gonna be okay?" The lady shook her head, "No, but I gotta keep fighting." That was enough for both Conquest and Death to let her have her time alone, "Meetcha at Louis' place; we're gettin' our stuff ready fer a trip t' th' nearest CEDA facility.."


End file.
